


Harbouring Desire

by Leya



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Blackmail, F/M, M/M, Manipulation, Other Additional Tags to Be Added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-10 23:07:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3306743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leya/pseuds/Leya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To want something with all your heart is sometimes not enough. You need to grasp every chance you get to help your dreams along. Even if it means to play with fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I honestly don't know how this happened. I don't even _like_ Rochefort... Well, he just wouldn't leave me alone. I'm sorry because the story just doesn't flow as easily as I'm used to but somehow my muse is there but only temporarily lending a helping hand.
> 
> Unbeta'd.

  
Rochefort closed the door to his chambers with unnecessary force, only stopping to fling his cloak over a chair, before marching straight towards his bed, all but throwing himself into the cushions.  
  
He really needed to get rid of the king or he most definitely would go insane.  
  
The whole day his mind had taunted him with endless possibilities for sudden accidents or unforeseeable assassination attempts but in the end he knew he couldn't do it. At least not now. One day the perfect opportunity might present itself but as long as he hadn't managed to lure the queen into his arms there was no need to risk another civil war. He would bide his time, would consolidate his position at court and until then...  
  
Growling deep in his throat he turned around, staring blindly at the canopy of his four-poster bed.  
  
Unasked the face of the king's newest mistress appeared in his mind, causing his anger to flare up again. Seemingly it wasn't enough to run across the stupid wench in almost every single corridor of the royal residence, on the contrary. For more than two weeks now his subconscious insisted to feed him fragments and pieces of a particular memory he just couldn't get a grip on and in her own way Milady proved to be just as maddening as the King.  
  
The fact that Milady de Winter continued presence lingered on his mind left a sour taste in his mouth. There was something he should know about Milady, something he _knew_ but it kept slipping away.  
  
Why the hell couldn’t he just forget her? It wasn't as if the fact that Louis had found a love interest was something he could use to his advantage. She was far from being the timid and love-sick woman she let everyone believe, Rochefort was well aware of that, but although there was this certain promise of danger lurking in her eyes Milady was just a mere distraction, nothing to waste his time on…  
  
Of course.  
  
Rochefort sat up abruptly. How could he have been so forgetful? He had seen Milady's name before, had found it on Richelieu's private payroll. But why had he paid her? Had she been his mistress? It was possible, but not very likely. Richelieu preferred his women blond after all.  
  
No, there had to be another, more valuable, explanation. At least, valuable for him.  
  
He just needed to figure out what it was.  
  
  


+++

  
  
Weeks went by and once more Rochefort was forced to find an outlet for the pent up anger brewing inside his soul every time the King's presence grated on his nerves.  
  
What would he give to kill the pompous fool and be over and done with it. But it was too soon, Rochefort was well aware of the fact that he needed to strengthen his position further and so he went out, alone, intent on indulging in his favourite pastime.  
  
Hidden beneath a dark, heavy cloak Rochefort waited in one of the most dangerous parts of Paris until he found what he was looking for.  
  
The man was a loud-mouthed drunk and when he staggered past his hiding-place the Comte could smell the sour odour of wine and vomit polluting the air around him.  
  
_Perfect._  
  
Smiling coldly he grabbed his dagger and set on following his unsuspecting victim.  
  
The hunt was on.  
  
  


+++

  
  
Once again Rochefort slammed the door to his bedroom shut, throwing himself face-first onto his bed.  
  
For a long while he just lay there, face pressed into the soft fabric of the pillows, listening to his own heartbeat echoing in his ears. The fight had been magnificent but far too short-lived to be truly satisfying and Rochefort still could feel his body thrumming with barely contained energy.  
  
He was so hard it hurt.  
  
Impatiently he turned on his back and wasted no time in unlacing his breeches. Almost immediately his cock sprang free and he closed his hand around the heated flesh. All he needed was a quick release to get rid of the tension and then he could return to his duties. One, two quick strokes should suffice...  
  
With his eyes closed he tried to focus on getting himself off but all too soon he realised that it was futile. As exciting it had been to follow his latest victim – indulging himself by hunting down his prey and getting rid of the vermin single-handedly was something he did from time to time – this time his method of relaxation had failed. The thrill of the hunt, the heat and vigour of the fight should have made it easy for him to relieve himself but whatever he tried, orgasm lingered just out of reach.  
  
Working his hand almost furiously up and down his shaft his mind involuntarily provided the image of the queen, serenely watching and he couldn't help but sigh in desperate longing.  
  
What he wouldn't give to have Anne in his arms right now.  
  
'Fool', he admonished himself almost immediately. Anne was pure. She was perfection, born to be worshipped through admiration and reverence, not to be tainted by something so profane like a mere spark of adrenalin fuelled _lust._  
  
The need to find his release was almost overwhelming by now and Rochefort decided that it was time to change tactics. Maybe disdain could do what love wasn't able to.  
  
It took his mind only a short moment to settle on one particular woman. Dark hair, green eyes, a sharp and cunning mind...  
  
_Yes..._  
  
Beautiful and elegant, enticing and fascinating, the perfect forbidden fruit to sink his teeth into...  
  
_Yes..._  
  
Clawing his skin with sharp nails as she fought him every step of the way until he tore down her defences, shattering the façade of this angel-faced whore...  
  
_YES..._  
  
All of a sudden searing heat was pooling in his groin and release hit him out of nowhere. Rochefort arched his back and he came with a strangled cry, coating his hand with his semen. For a long moment he just lay there, breathing heavily in the afterglow of one of the best orgasms he ever had in his whole life. Bit by bit his breathing returned to normal and when he finally had calmed down enough to straighten his clothes he got up and made his way over to the window.  
  
Pondering his next actions for a few seconds he decided to use the tablecloth to clean his hands, enjoying the thought of making his servants uncomfortable when they detected the mess, before he poured himself a glass of wine and returned to his bed, determined to ignore his duties for the rest of the day. He had better things to do. His latest fantasy had given him a lot to think about.  
  
It was high time to renew his search for more information about Milady.  
  
  


+++

  
  
In the end it was mere coincidence that led Rochefort to the information that he so eagerly desired.  
  
It had been three weeks since he remembered Richelieu's payroll and he had read it over and over again, eager to find out something – anything – about the role Milady had been playing in the cardinal's plans but he found absolutely nothing and his frustration about not knowing all the details increased with every passing day.  
  
And then he had literally stumbled over the solution to his problem. Lost in thought he had been pacing his chambers, moving from the window towards the desk and back to the window again until his foot had got caught up in the carpet. Stumbling forward he barely avoided to crash face-forward into the dark wooden panels, his hands coming up to break his fall. There had been a click and one of the panels had shifted away under from under his touch.  
  
Who would have thought that one day Richelieu's distrustful character would turn out to be exactly what Rochefort needed? The meticulously kept notes regarding the late cardinal's employees were a godsend and the myriad of possibilities suddenly offered to him were almost overwhelming.  
  
The cardinal's assassin. The list of her victim's went on and on and Rochefort had to admit that he felt quite impressed. A common thief Milady de Winter had obviously found a way to overcome the obstacles of her origin. That woman definitely had a strong will. It was a treat that could prove rather useful in the future.  
  
Suddenly the world came to a stand-still.  
  
Lost in envisioning his next moves the most important sentence almost escaped his notice. Rochefort carefully placed the small leather-clad book back on the table, only his trembling hands betraying his silent rage. Long years of experience prevented him from reacting without thinking first but it was a close call.  
  
Richelieu had tried to kill the queen. And Milady had been the one to hire the queen's would-be executioner.  
  
For a long moment he just sat there, taking his time to calm down enough to continue. No-one tried to harm Anne and got away with it. Not as long as he had a say in the matter. Milady would pay.  
  
Returning to the task at hand Rochefort picked up the book again, quickly leafing through the pages, a vague idea forming in his head. When he remembered correctly Milady was married and her husband...  
  
He closed the book. _This. Was. Perfect._  
  
Suddenly everything was so easy, all the pieces effortlessly falling into place. With a small cruel smile forming on his lips Rochefort finally returned to his desk, mind already set on planning his revenge.  
  
  


+++

  
  
"What do you want?"  
  
Rochefort smiled, patting the free space next to him on the park bench with a lazy smile on his lips.  
  
"Milady de Winter. I'm so glad you could make it. Please, sit down."  
  
"The king's awaiting me. Make it quick." How he longed to wipe that superior smile of her face. Victory was so near he could already taste it.  
  
"As you wish." Letting go of all pretence Rochefort cut straight to the point. "I found your name in the late cardinal's notes. I took the liberty to prepare a list of your so called _duties_."  
  
As he held the small scroll he had prepared out for he watched her eyes narrow in wary suspicion and Rochefort couldn't conceal his glee any longer. He had her, had seen the sudden fear flashing over her face before her expression turned blank. The flawless change was rather impressive, he had to admit, but it was futile. She already had given the truth away.  
  
"The King pardoned me."  
  
"Be that as it may I'm sure he will reconsider his decision as soon as he learns about just how depraved you really are."  
  
Scroll crumbling in her hand Milady met his gaze with defiance. "What do you want?"  
  
"It's quite simple. I'm in need of your special _talents_."  
  
"No."  
  
"You should hear me out." Rochefort allowed himself a small smile, silently hoping for her continued refusal, relishing the thought of being challenged.  
  
_Please let me show you how well I play this game..._  
  
"I left this life behind. I'm not that kind of person anymore." So sure, so confident. But the cool and composed façade was just _begging_ to be cracked open.  
  
The Comte's smile widened even further. "Is that so? Then you won't mind when I tell the king about your alliance with Richelieu?"  
  
"He will understand."  
  
Rochefort nodded solemnly. "I'm sure he will. He won't even mind hearing about your involvement in the failed assassination attempt on the queen. He loves her, you know."  
  
Swallowing hard Milady had turned a rather unpleasant shade of grey.  
  
"This is neither the right place nor the right time to discuss my wishes." Rochefort stood up and took a slow step in the woman's direction, satisfied to see her taking an involuntary step back. "I will need your services soon. You'll do well to come when I call for you."  
  
Superior smile firmly in place Rochefort strolled past his prey. It was time to set the second part of his plan into motion.  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story hates me.

  
  
Milady turned around in front of the mirror, checking her appearance for the hundredth time. She needed to look perfect. Not too beautiful – Rochefort shouldn't think she was out to seduce him – but beautiful enough to entice him nonetheless.  
  
Fixing one wayward strand of hair with the jewelled pins the king had given to her just a few days ago the dark-haired woman decided that there was nothing more she could do. The colour of the dress brought out her eyes and accentuated her small waist. The necklace that kept hidden the ugly scar around her neck was richly decorated and securely in place.  
  
She had been around the Cardinal for too long not to recognize when someone was out for her blood and Rochefort definitely had something planned that would not be to her liking.  
  
Assessing herself critically for one last time Milady smiled, old familiar masks of cold disdain almost effortlessly slipping into place.  
  
For now Rochefort had the advantage but when she played her cards right this might change soon. Until then all she had to do was to survive by using all means necessary.  
  
Fortunately it was something she was really good at.  
  
  
  


+++

  
  
It had taken Rochefort almost two weeks to set his plans in motion but now all the players were on the board – all he needed to do was to move them into the right position. Fate had given him an unexpected gift and although he nearly had thrown it away in a fit of childish rage he knew better than to waste such a promising opportunity.  
  
After he unearthed the truth about Milady his first reaction had been to destroy her completely. She didn't deserve anything less after all, but although he loved the Queen more than any other woman in his life, he also had his mind set on one certain goal – to usurp the King and take his place. And the information he had gathered these past days were exactly what he needed to further secure his position at court.  
  
He would get his revenge and - simultaneously – become even more powerful than before. All he had to do was to turn them into his very own creatures and then…  
  
The knock on his door brought him out of his reverie. A quick look to the small clock on the mantelpiece told him that it really was time for the entertainment to begin.  
  
_Let the game begin._  
  
"Come in."  
  
There was a short moment of hesitation on the other side of the door before it swung open and Milady drifted inside, seemingly all self-confident and false bravado. It was so easy now to see right through her that Rochefort wondered how he never noticed before how insecure and vulnerable she really was.  
  
It offered him so much leverage to work with. All he needed was to threaten to rip the small piece of heaven she had secured herself at the side of the King right from under her feet and she would cave in. This matter could be closed within a few minutes but where would be the fun in that?  
  
No, first he would make her understand that there was a reason no-one dared to cross him. She would learn that there was absolutely nothing he couldn't do to her and then, when she inevitably accepted him as her new master he would allow her to prove her usefulness to his cause. But as soon as he had used her like he saw fit she finally would _pay_.  
  
Smiling coldly Rochefort gestured towards his bed. "Please, sit down."  
  
He was sure that this time she would comply. They were on the battleground of his choosing and Milady certainly wasn't foolish enough to test him on such a trivial matter. He was right. Milady moved towards his bed and sat down, a knowing smirk disdainfully twisting her lips.  
  
"I should have known it would end in the bedroom", she finally stated coolly and for a short moment Rochefort almost betrayed the exhilaration bubbling in his chest while he imagined her reaction when she finally learned the truth.  
  
Refusing to take the bait he moved over to the table. "Wine?"  
  
Milady shook her head and continued to watch him speculatively. "Why waste time with unnecessary pleasantries? Just tell me what you want."  
  
"Why this open hostility? All I want to do is talk. There are a lot of things to discuss, don't you agree?"  
  
"I can't see how _talking_ will change the fact that you're here to blackmail me into working for you."  
  
Laughing in delighted surprise Rochefort filled his glass with wine and returned to his previous position, casually leaning against the wall opposite of her.  
  
"I see you prefer immediately to come to the core of the thing." Rochefort drained his wine and placed the glass on the table before he moved over to a chair, sinking into the cushions with elegant ease. "Fine. If that's what you want."  
  
Crossing his legs Rochefort leaned back, fingers tapping a thoughtful rhythm against the armrest.  
  
_Where to begin?_  
  
The fact alone that Louis had found a love interest that kept him away from the Queen fitted in well with his plans, the King's careless behaviour playing right into his hands. In choosing Milady for a lover the King had made the one mistake Rochefort had been waiting for so long now. Turning Milady to work for him wouldn't be too hard and this woman certainly offered rather enticing possibilities to keep an eye on Louis without the King suspecting anything. To have his own creature right in the King's bed would offer so many possibilities to speed up his game.  
  
"Well? I'm waiting." Milady sounded slightly irritated and Rochefort quickly focussed on the here and now. There was enough time to dream about his future plans later.  
  
"Patience, my dear. We are waiting for someone although I have to admit that he is a little bit late."  
  
"He?" Milady couldn't keep the dread out of her voice, obviously fearing that the king would join them.  
  
_The truth was so much better..._  
  
"Don't worry. Louis fast asleep right now." Rochefort smiled amiably and threw a short look at the clock. He should have known that the man wouldn't be in time.  
  
Another knock on the door and Rochefort straightened himself, permitting admittance with a gleeful tone in his voice.  
  
The door swung open and for a long moment the whole room seemed to freeze. Staring wide-eyed at the dark-clad Musketeer who was standing on the threshold Milady swallowed hard, her panicked eyes searching her husband's equally shocked face.  
  
"Ah, the Comte de la Fere. Please, come in. Your wife's already awaiting you."  
  
  


+++

  
  
"Damn it, come in." Rochefort snarled in annoyance when Athos remained in place, holding the doorknob in a white-knuckled grip. In answer the Musketeer pressed his lips together in an obvious display of anger and entered the room, slamming the door behind him with unnecessary force.  
  
"Athos, please. We don't want someone to wake up and wonder what you two are doing in my chambers, do we?"  
  
The dark-haired male huffed and looked around, taking in every single detail. His eyes flickered over Milady's face and his wife answered with an almost imperceptible raise of one eyebrow, relieved to see that they still understood each other without words even after all this time when Athos lips twitched in response.  
  
"Why are we here, Rochefort?"  
  
Rochefort ignored the Musketeers question, using the soft fabric of his shirt to polish his nails.  
  
Milady rolled her eyes, shock quickly wearing off. The situation had changed but she would be damned if she allowed herself to be caught off guard by the unexpected arrival of her husband. Athos was just as surprised as she had been, their short exchange had verified as much, and so she at least could be sure that he hadn't made common cause with Rochefort.  
  
"Can we please get to the point? Assuming there _is_ a point to all this?"  
  
"Of course there is." Rochefort licked his lips, gaze lasciviously travelling over Athos body, enjoying the poorly hidden look of disgust flashing over the other male's face. Smiling he got to his feet, slowly moving over to the table.  
  
Out of the corner of his eye he caught the worried glances his visitor's shared and the knowledge that he held both their lives in his hands excited him beyond all measure. Refilling his glass he held it up, openly admiring the intensive colour of the deep red liquid.  
  
"Not long ago I found a treasure."  
  
Athos cleared his throat, definitely annoyed by his delaying tactics and Rochefort grinned.  
  
"I always knew that Richelieu was a man who valued correctness and so it wasn't overly surprising when I found his secret notes on his employees and their... relations."  
  
Another worried look passed between Athos and Milady and this time Rochefort just couldn't resist. Moving to stand behind the Musketeer he grabbed the man's shoulders, humming softly into his ear, one hand quickly taking hold of Athos wrist, stopping him before he could grab the hilt of his sword.  
  
"There is no need for weapons, my dear Athos. You see, Milady over there already knows what I want from her."  
  
The Musketeer jerked his arm free but made no further attempt at escaping Rochefort's grip. "What are you playing at, Rochefort?"  
  
"Oh, not much. I just want you and your beautiful wife to work for me."  
  
"You are insane." Athos twisted around and pushed Rochefort back. "What the hell makes you think I work for _you_?"  
  
"Do you want to tell him or should I?" Rochefort asked Milady in mock-interest and when she only glared at him he shrugged nonchalantly before grabbing the scroll he had prepared for this occasion and thrust it in Athos hands. "Read this and then tell me again that you won't work for me."  
  
Seconds later Athos flung the scroll in Rochefort's direction and crossed his arms over his chest. "I fail to see how this will affect me in any way."  
  
"You don't think the King will take offence when he learns that you and your precious friends knew all about the attempt at the Queens life? You _knew_ who hired the one trying to kill her Majesty, but all that happened was nothing. You let her go – of course seeing that she's your wife."  
  
"Well, we informed the Queen. I'm quite sure you won't risk her wrath should she learn about your plans to tell the King something she decided to keep from him for the sake of France."  
  
The surprised silence lasted for only a moment before Milady snorted, doing her best to mask the laughter rising in her throat with a cough.  
  
Rochefort sneered at her. "Clever. But unfortunately..." He turned around and leaning closer to Athos he whispered: "Paul Meunier."  
  
"I don't have to listen to your..."  
  
"Ninon de Larroque."  
  
For a split second something like fear flashed through Athos eyes but the feeling settled so quickly Rochefort wasn't sure he had even seen it but it was enough. So similar those two. Both so desperate to conceal their real emotions and yet both so easily to break.  
  
Milady caught on almost immediately. "How did you pull this one off?" There was a reluctant admiration in her eyes as she regarded her husband.  
  
Athos smiled shortly but didn't answer. Instead he concentrated on Rochefort, not willing to let him out of his eyes for a moment.  
  
"So, let me get this straight." Rochefort put his glass aside and sat down next to Milady, getting too close for her liking. She tried to move away but the Comte grabbed her hand and held it in a vice-like grip, while focussing on her husband. "Between the two of you there are so many crimes against the crown that I could have you both convicted for treason with ridiculous ease."  
  
"What. Do. You. Want." Athos gritted his teeth, clearly at the end of his rope.  
  
"Oh, that's quite simple. I want you..." Rochefort raised Milady's hand to his lips, keeping her trapped, while he gently caressed her knuckles with his tongue. The disgust in her eyes turned him on more than he was willing to admit. "...to tell me everything that goes on in the King's bedchamber. Tell me everything he talks about. Tell me about his plans, his dreams, his wishes. And – what's even more important – you will feed him the lies I need him to believe but can't tell him myself."  
  
"That won't work." Although Louis was stupid he wasn't _that_ stupid. "I'm nothing but his mistress. He doesn't discuss politics with me."  
  
"I'm sure you will find a way." Rochefort let go of her hand and turned around, fixing Athos with a hard stare. "You on the other hand will be the one to inform me about Treville."  
  
"Never."  
  
"Athos, please. We both know that there is nothing you can do to prevent this from happening. Of course I took precautions against you killing me. Should something happen to me all the documents Richelieu collected – and of course the information I managed to compile – will be immediately send to the King. And should you try to warn the King or Treville – well, let's just say that I found several rather interesting information about your friends, too. So, what will it be?"  
  
Athos didn't answer but the anger in his eyes was answer enough for Rochefort. The Comte returned to his chair and clapped his hands in excitement.  
  
"Excellent. Now we can move on the educational part of the evening." Again he let his gaze linger on the Musketeers firm, muscled body before he let his eyes wander over the dark-haired beauty still sitting on his bed.  
  
"Strip."  
  



End file.
